


One Week's Detention

by SilentEpiphany



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Bromance, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Pre-Series, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-20
Updated: 2013-03-20
Packaged: 2017-12-05 22:18:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/728519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilentEpiphany/pseuds/SilentEpiphany
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was only day one, and Spirit was quite sure he was going to lose his mind. Short drabble, set when Stein and Spirit were partners. No warnings. Pointless semi-fluff and bromance. Trying to keep this pairing alive!</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Week's Detention

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Stein, Spirit, or Soul Eater in any way! But they do live in my head. :3  
> Author’s Note: No warnings here, kiddos – just good ol’ fashioned teenage bromance. Set when these two were partners.

It was another gorgeous springtime Friday afternoon at Shibusen. The temperature was picture perfect, the skies were clear, and school had just let out for the weekend. All over the campus, weapons and meisters gathered in cliques, discussing their big plans. Young Spirit Albarn, aged only 15, stared at the scenery longingly through a window from his desk where he sat in an empty classroom, alone.

Well, alone save for the stone-faced female professor at the front, who looked equally as thrilled to be indoors.

The human weapon released an audible sigh, propping his chin on an upturned palm while a lead pencil in his right hand took out its silent fury on the inside cover of one of his opened textbooks. It was only day one, and Spirit was already quite positive he was going to lose his mind. How the hell would he ever get through a week of this? Furthermore, who even got detention anymore? Especially over something so stupid…

[Earlier that day…]

Morning study hall ended, leaving students – weapons and meisters alike – pouring out into the hallway. Another scythe-meister Spirit’s own age trotted alongside his redheaded classmate.

“Midterm exam’s tomorrow…sure you don’t wanna pair up?” the boy offered with a wicked grin.

“Nah,” the human scythe dismissed the offer with a smirk of his own and small shake of his head.

“Seriously,” the boy persisted, still keeping stride. “We’d be top of the class together! Better than your _current_ partner.”

“Hey, he’s a good meister,” Spirit defended casually, though he could feel his expression gradually hardening.

“C’mon man, don’t be a coward.”

The comment fell on deaf ears as the redhead continued making his way down the hall, undeterred. It wasn’t until a hand grabbed his shoulder that his footsteps stopped.

His classmate’s tone was humorless and flat as he spoke: “Listen Albarn, you don’t have to risk your life being the weapon of some scrawny _freak_.”

_Freak_. A simple, five letter word. Never spoken, always spat; always dripping with disgust; and always used in conjunction with Stein. Spirit had heard it ad nauseam. This time, however, he reacted in a way nobody – even himself – could have anticipated:

He turned on a heel, backed up a fist and swung.

The blow connected with the boy’s jaw, leaving him reeling and the other students breathless and stunned. Spirit was no exception. By the time the gravity of his action reached him, he was looking down at his classmate as he held his jaw, wide-eyed in disbelief.

And so the young weapon, who had never thrown a single punch in his life, was the recipient of one week’s detention for fighting. According to Shinigami-sama, it was a slap on the wrist compared to what it should have been.

Frustration drove the pencil in his right hand deeper into the textbook’s cover as he doodled the minutes by all too slowly. What had gotten into him, anyway? He still didn’t understand. His meister didn’t need defending. He didn’t even like Stein, he reminded himself angrily. After all, what was the point of liking someone so detached and indifferent?

Spirit’s knuckles throbbed, reminding him of the physical evidence written on them. Evidence that said even though he claimed to dislike his partner, some part of him disagreed. That some part of him was loyal and devoted; that some part of him genuinely cared.

His pencil clattered to the floor, shaking him from his thoughts. As he reached down to retrieve it he heard the door creak open, and in walked…

…his partner?!

A vision in white with books under one lithe arm, he strode into the room, soundlessly turned in his pink detention slip to the professor, and took a seat next to his weapon. “What are you doing here?!” Spirit whispered, the question punctuated with a loud shushing from the front. Stein did not answer. Instead, he pulled a piece of lined paper from his binder, picked up a pencil with his left hand and began to scrawl out a message. After folding the note over itself, he discreetly passed it to the left to his partner.

Spirit opened it and read the remarkably tidy scrawl. It said simply: _“_

_My weapon is not a coward.”_

Only then did he take note of the reddened, swollen state of his meister’s left hand, and the faintest hint of a satisfied smirk on his lips. The weapon’s own expression couldn’t help but mirror it. Picking up his own pencil, he scrawled out his reply one line below, folded the paper over, and handed it back to Stein.

_“And my meister is not a freak.”_


End file.
